The Last of Days
by DevDev
Summary: What if things hadn't gone so smoothly after Rhett left Scarlett on the road to Tara?
1. Chapter 1

Note: So it's my tenth time reading _Gone With the Wind_. I've never been brave enough to write a story from the novel basically because of how well it is written and just how hard the characters are to get down on paper. Also, there are already so many well written stories out there that I didn't need to! But I couldn't help myself this time and this story resulted.

It takes place after Rhett leaves Scarlett on the road after fleeing Atlanta. I always wondered what would happen if it had lead to disaster. This part was never supposed to be written. It was supposed to be a one part story on Rhett's return to Atlanta after the war. But Scarlett would not be silenced (imagine that!) and I couldn't help but write this part. It's down right depressing, but I hope you all enjoy it and I hope I didn't butcher the characters too badly.

Without further ado:

Part One

Scarlett O'Hara was not about to give up. Despite being lost for what seemed like days and more tired than she had ever been in her short life, she was not about to give up. Surely Rhett Butler had only left them a couple of hours ago and not days. But it was so hot and she was so very thirsty. Sweat soaked and dirty and yet, no, she would not give up. If she gave up, there'd be nothing left for the people in the back of the wagon, nothing but God and his mercy.

Steering the horse – nag really – towards the right, she whispered fervently under her breath. Praying to God that they would all get through this. She had promised Ashley to watch over Melanie and if something happened – no, no, she couldn't bear to think such thoughts. Hadn't allowed herself to think such thoughts while Melanie was in labor and certainly would not now. But Scarlett was worried and her hands fumbled with their worry. Melanie's baby hadn't cried for a very long time nor had Melanie herself made any noises. Her face was an even whiter shade than it had been upon fleeing Atlanta, her skin sweaty and moist. Why, her skin was almost clammy to the touch. She needed water, but there was none to be found. All the familiar creeks dried down to dirt and left only with brown leaves. Scarlett herself was thirsty, but knew Melanie would have to be the first of them to drink water.

And the baby. Surely the pink baby boy was hungry. But, oh! Nothing to feed him with! If only, if only she hadn't been so stubborn. Maybe Tara wasn't the place to go after all. Maybe she should have listened to Rhett and gone elsewhere.

But it was too late now. Too late for – oh! Rhett. She didn't want to think of him. But she did anyway. In the sweltering, dizzying heat there was nowhere else for her mind to go. Her anger fueled her, burned hotter than the very sun itself. What a cad! To leave her and Melanie and Wade alone. She knew he could be of some help now, despite her unwillingness to admit such a thing. If only she could rest for a moment. Just one moment and have someone else take up the reins of this old nag. For she was so very tired.

In her heated haze, she pictured Rhett. Rhett alongside her in the wagon. His strong shoulders there for her to lean against. Supporting her. Despite her hatred for him, she knew his strong arms were the ones she wanted. Next to Ellen's lap and her comforting, warm, loving face of course. And next to Tara. Yes, Rhett was third on her list and for a second or more; she forgot he had even left them. But then she blinked, colored spots appearing before her eyes and knew she was alone. Rhett was not with them.

And suddenly, neither was the nag he had stolen for her. Dropped in the dust, legs flailing into the air, breath coming just once more and then stopping; his chest unmoving. The wagon tumbled as he tumbled, tilting until Scarlett had no other option than to slide off next to him.

Wade cried as he slid forward, his little legs hitting Melanie square in the ribs. Scarlett was about to discipline the horrified child, but then noticed Melanie's lack of reaction. Let out a horrified scream and bent towards the still body. Felt for her wrist and neck, mirroring movements seen from her nursing days in the hospital, such a long time ago now. Felt nothing but drying sweat and an almost chill. Melanie was dead.

Scarlett furiously dropped her hand away from Melly's palm and neck, horrified at her discovery. She muttered a prayer, and then another and closed her eyes against this never-ending nightmare. Called out for Prissy before she opened her eyes, but there was no reply. There was a whimper from the baby, such a fragile cry. And Scarlett felt panic.

Prissy was dead. Eyes closed and body turned against the small wall of the wagon. And Scarlett let out another cry before she could stop herself. Muttered a prayer she wouldn't have been able to name if she had wanted to, her mind in such a heap. Snatched Wade from the wagon, shamed he had been back there for so long with the dead. Shamed she had not noticed until this very moment. Gingerly took the newborn from wagon as well, grabbed Wade's small hand and marched passed the upturned horse. Well, they would walk then. She was too scared to think about Melanie and Prissy now. She knew she'd have to send Pa or a neighbor back this way to provide proper burial, but her and Wade and this baby were in trouble and they needed to reach Tara as fast as their legs would carry them. She'd have to think of poor Melly and Prissy later, much later. Oh, if only she weren't so lost!

Wade didn't protest as she pulled him along at a brisk pace, his eyes wide with terror and his mouth agape. He put his faith in his mother, his strong and dependable mother who could surely get him out of wherever they were. Prissy and Melanie barely registered in his head and he didn't question their absence as him and his mother left them and the wagon behind.

Stars were appearing in the sky when Scarlett finally decided to rest. Still more lost and confused than ever, but too tired to go on much further. Wade was saturated, his brown hair matted and wet against his forehead. Scarlett herself dying for a drop of water, so dizzy without it. Melanie's baby, as wet as she, cradled in the nook of her arms, sleeping quietly, small chest rising steadily up and down. Collapsing against a tree, she pulled Wade down with her and Melanie's baby. So tired. So thirsty. So very hungry. So very lost and alone. She looked down at Ashley and Melanie's sweet little baby boy and felt pity and sympathy rise in her chest. The boy would never know his mother and she reckoned he would never know his father either. His grandfather was gone, left only to two aunts and great aunt Pitty. Oh, what a terrible thing! If she got out of this alive, she'd never let this baby leave her sight. Could never imagine leaving him to the care of India and Honey nor to the care of Aunt Pitty. Would never want that for her own child and certainly not the child of Ashley. Not if she could help it.

But could she help it? As her eyes sporadically closed, she knew her time was short and that the three of them might never reach Tara. Oh, damn that Sherman. Damn them for not leaving sooner! Damn… damn… damn Rhett. And then she cried. Cried again and again out into the night. Melanie dead? How could such a thing be possible? Her responsible for this little orphan baby and her own son? She was Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton, belle of the south! Why were these burdens placed so heavily upon her back?

Well, she couldn't take it any longer. No, she wasn't strong enough. Everyone had been wrong about her and her strength and in this dizzying state between life and death, she didn't care any longer. And so she cried. Prayed to God with incoherent words, and finally, before the sun rose she turned to Wade with eyes he had never seen before. Eyes sick with fever. Eyes so very full and close to death.

She told him how very sorry she was. She had always tried to be such a lady, like her mother, but never could. And now she would never be able to. She pleaded with Wade to forgive her and in her last moments even muttered an I love you to the confused and very young child. Melanie's newborn was silent against her chest, his chest not falling and rising so steadily any longer. There was nothing left for her and the baby but death. But Wade; certainly he still had some strength. Just keep walking, honey, she said and clutched his hand once more. Just keep walking and someone will help. And you tell them about your Aunt Pitty in Macon. Can you do that? Good. You're my strong, brave little boy and Mother does love you. Don't cry, dear. Be strong and brave and good.

And as he faded off right in front of her eyes, she saw Charles' face. Bright and boyish under the light of Twelve Oaks. But then that face was Melly's sweet one, smiling and bright and so thankful for all that Scarlett had done for her. Well, it was worthless, Scarlett thought. But no, the thought was removed instantly for Melanie knew it was not worthless, not at all. Saw Mammy and heard her mutter something about her lamb. Saw Pa and his scarlet face, his smile and bravado showcased under these hazy, yet bright lights. She saw her mother, and was able to rest her head on Ellen's lap and lay down her weary load at last. The newborn was not a newborn any longer, but a little boy with platinum hair and a jovial smile, round and full and sitting upon Melly's knee. Her sisters could be seen as well, but they brought her no joy despite her being sorry that they were there with her at all. There were a million faces. Faces she had grown up knowing, always there surrounding her. But of these faces, two were different.

Ashley's was different. He looked quite sad and drawn. He wasn't as bright as the others looked. And he was not happy to see her. She wanted to ask why he wasn't sitting with Melanie and his son, but couldn't find the words. She wanted to say sorry for failing him, for she had, but there was simply no way. Scarlett felt no spark or emotion when her eyes alighted on him and it surprised her just for a moment. And then that moment passed, for her eyes found someone else.

It was Rhett. And his face was the second different one. There was no anger when she saw him, but a gentle peace. A loving, heavenly thought passed before her but she shuddered and it was gone before being fully realized. His eyes were gentle and sincere, without a trace of mocking behind them. He patted her hair and muttered a 'sweet, sweet' before simply walking away. And she wanted nothing more than to follow his footsteps.

She tried. Tried awfully hard. Even lifted her head from Ellen's lap and pulled herself away from all the familiar faces. They were tugging her back, asking in strange whispers for her to stay. But she couldn't. She had to follow Rhett if it took every bit of strength she had ever possessed. Why was he so different from the others? She would follow him to the ends of the earth if she could, but certainly didn't know why.

And then suddenly reality jarred back and she opened her eyes swiftly against the sun. She didn't know how long she'd been resting there, but Wade was gone and she couldn't see him in the distance. The world wasn't so bright and all the familiar faces were gone. Her senses were dull however, but she used the tree trunk to stand, her weak fingers digging into the bark. Could hardly steady herself but needed to follow Rhett. He wouldn't leave her a second time, no. Not while she had a breath left in her body. Blood in her veins.

But she stumbled, unconsciously protecting the baby before she tumbled, her mouth hitting the dust of the road before she could close it. Coughing and curling into a tiny ball. Yes, she would die here, in the middle of some unknown road. Never following Rhett ever again. And felt such disappointment at such a thing. Closed her eyes against the harsh sun. Could swear she was being lifted. Could swear she could hear singing. Could swear she would never be thirsty or hungry or scared ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: So this chapter was supposed to be the whole thing. Originally there was no part one or part three, but just this and that was supposed to be it. But, Scarlett would not stay silent (imagine such a thing!) and I had to create more of a story. She wouldn't let me do a thing otherwise! Anyway, thank you for the wonderful reviews. They truly mean a lot to me and are very much appreciated!

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**Part Two:**

There were two things Rhett Butler was most concerned about upon his return to Atlanta. Although he would never admit to being concerned over either of these two matters, he went about them in such a way that made it seem as if discretion was not the first thing on his mind. In fact, although he would never admit to caring, everybody left in Atlanta knew this was not the case at all.

The two things of course in which he was most worried about were the fates of a certain Mrs. Hamilton and a Mrs. Wilkes.

He was back in town with a carriage and fine horses and more money than the citizens of Atlanta had seen in years and they hated him for it. But they certainly didn't have a chance to snub him for it before gossip rose steadily about his inquiries over Scarlett and Melanie, God rest their souls.

Everyone had already heard what happened. Scarlett and Melanie were dead. Melanie's body found on an abandoned road only miles away from where Tara had once lain. Scarlett had never been found, nor had the body of Melanie's newly born baby. Wade had been the lone survivor, left with three words in his vocabulary: Mother, Macon and Yankee. For the little boy had lived among them for a year before being reunited with Aunt Pitty. This news came with Uncle Peter, for Aunt Pittypat could never tell the happenings before falling into an authentic swoon. Came with Uncle Peter and on the sad, little face of Wade Hampton. Later the news would become more official with the arrival of Ashley Wilkes, wifeless, childless and nearly lifeless himself, but by that time the news had already been spread rapidly and there was no need for reiteration.

It seemed the only person who had not heard such news was Captain Rhett Butler and no one, not even Belle Walting wanted to deliver the news. Despite the petty hatred they felt towards the man, not even the most heartless of creatures could tell him what had happened. Instead, they directed him towards Aunt Pitty's house, where little Wade and Ashley were now living. Gasping slightly at the painful memory of it all, they would close their eyes briefly before pointing a finger towards the house. For how could they speak such tragedies once more? And especially to someone they knew wouldn't take it well at all? Why, everyone knew just how often Rhett Butler had called upon Scarlett and just how many dinners he had attended at Aunt Pitty's. They knew the man cared, no matter his otherwise contradicting actions. And so they sent him there, every one of them, knowing of course, that they wouldn't be able to look at him once he stepped back down those steps.

Rhett himself knew something was wrong just before the third person he questioned pointed to Aunt Pitty's residence. So frustrated with the lack of words every one had spoken to him on the one subject he most wanted to know about, it took all the strength he had not to tear down Aunt Pitty's door and burst in, firing for answers to whomever crossed his path. But instead he knocked like a gentleman, tucking the bonbons under his arm and waited for someone to answer.

He was surprised when Ashley came to the door. No one had said anything about him even being alive, never mind the fact that he was here answering Aunt Pitty's door. The man before him looked entirely changed from how Rhett remembered him. With unkempt hair, droopy eyes, and in disheveled dress, Rhett had never seen him looking in such disarray. Never had he seen a man look so close to death and still be standing upright and alive. And in the past several months, Rhett had borne witness to many dying men. The black, dark clothing Ashley wore only highlighted his very pale skin. But this, Rhett barely noticed, too fixated he was on the black clothing itself. Ashley was in mourning.

Rhett was motioned inside the house and into the parlor as Ashley called for Aunt Pitty. He did this softly, his voice not betraying the emotion he surely felt. And Rhett suddenly knew. Knew that Melanie was dead. Did not know how or when, but knew with a burning realization that hurt more than any physical blow. He could only hope and pray that Scarlett hadn't met the same tragic fate.

Aunt Pitty entered the room with Ashley trailing slowly behind her. She was clothed in black and her expression did not change upon seeing the bonbons, but only grew sadder and more distraught. He greeted her and she gently took the bonbons from his hands, muttering a small thank you. And then she settled herself in the plush armchair, motioning for him to sit down. Ashley remained standing, his expression blank as he stared out at nothing.

Rhett could not remember why he muttered a sorry, for no one had said anything at all. But it broke the silence and it made Aunt Pitty's lips tremble. And maybe he was sorry, but for what, he didn't know. Not yet at least.

Aunt Pitty spoke then. Her voice wavering and faulty, but understandable all at once. She had to clear her throat several times before continuing and had to sniff her smelling salts more than once, but she told the story. Although she had never claimed to like Rhett Butler because of his terrible reputation, she could not help but forget all about that and feel as if he deserved to know the fates of the only women in town who had received him. It was that thought in her mind that kept her going. Kept her telling the terrible tale no matter how much she wanted to stop and retire to bed for the rest of the afternoon.

Tara was gone. Burnt to the ground by the Yankees, leaving the O'Hara's and their kin to the streets. With Ellen and the girls sick with typhoid, it was only a short matter of time before the sickness took all three, leaving Gerald with three free slaves and no where to live. He was with neighbors now, but not himself any longer. It was he and some others who had found the wagon with dear Melly and the maid, Prissy, both dead for quite some time. Wade, Scarlett and Melly's baby however, were not found near the wagon.

Rhett wanted to interrupt the story before it had even started. Make Aunt Pitty get to the part about Scarlett's fate. Make her reach the part he was dying to know about. But he remained expressionless, listening hard to the story. Quite aware that Ashley's face was growing more somber each passing moment. But before he could motion for Aunt Pitty to continue on, little Wade Hampton burst into the room.

He was crying, large tears streaming down his reddened face. Rhett stood as Wade ran for Aunt Pitty, throwing himself against her legs. He sniffled and coughed against her black skirts and she leaned forward to pat his head softly. She questioned what had started his tears, but he would not answer and continued his wailing. Aunt Pitty motioned for Ashley to lift the boy and he did, but the boy continued to struggle and his cries worsened. Wade turned his head towards Rhett and reached out for him and before anyone could excuse the boy, he was nestled in Rhett's arms, cries quieting before stopping abruptly.

Wade's appearance gave Rhett a sinking feeling deep in his stomach. If Wade were here and Ashley as well and with Tara burnt, where was Scarlett? Certainly she couldn't be dead. Not if Wade himself were alive and well, although oddly silent with words. But something was not right. And as much as it satisfied him for Wade to choose his arms over Ashley's own, he desired to know the end of Aunt Pitty's story. What had happened to Scarlett?

And he did get the end of his story, but he wasn't so sure he wanted it very much. Poor little Wade, now asleep against Rhett's chest, was an orphan now. An orphan who had been found by a Yankee ("one of the good ones, thank God!"), and who had spent a full year in the north with a Yankee family. The little boy didn't speak any more, only said three words, one of which had reunited him and Aunt Pitty. He only had her and Uncle Henry and Uncle Ashley now, only one of whom he had known since he had been a baby.

And as for Scarlett? As for Melly and Ashley's dear baby? Gone. God only knew what had happened to the two of them, for Wade wouldn't speak and their bodies had never been found. One could only assume the worst since it had been an awful long time since Melanie and Prissy and the wagon had been discovered and an even longer one since the night of Sherman's raid. Scarlett and her strength were gone. Scarlett, with her bravery and bravado and her vivaciousness, all gone. Without a trace of anything left for them to bury. What would they ever do without Scarlett and Melanie!

With this, Aunt Pitty burst into tears and had to leave the room. Ashley stood there, still as a lamp, as wordless as Wade, and continued to stare out into space, as if the story had never been told. He was a shell now. A shell of the man he had once been. And Rhett fully understood, couldn't help but have an understanding with the last man he would ever have thought to.

As for Rhett, he was numb. There was no feeling in his legs or arms or face. With his heart hammering, he let Ashley take Wade from his arms and briefly leave the room. Alone with his own thoughts, he could almost feel his posture go slack. With every breath he took, his body seemed heavier and heavier. Dear God, he was responsible for this! Scarlett and Melanie and the baby, all gone. For a moment he did not believe Scarlett could be dead, they had never found a body after all, but there… there was no way she could be alive either. With so much time gone. And it was all his fault.

If he had stopped her from the beginning, this would have never happened. If he had taken them anywhere else, even Belle's whore house for Christ's sake, no matter how much Scarlett had cried. If he had stayed with them on that long road instead of abandoning them in the middle of the night surrounded by the army. And with Tara burnt, it had all been futile anyway. And he should have known! All of them dead because of him and his stupid desire to join the retreating army. As if him donning the uniform had done a thing at all except do his pride some good.

Scarlett gone. Her bright green eyes and delighting smile all gone. Her small waist and her childish humor. Her passion for life, her passion for Ashley. All gone. The first real woman he had met in his entire life and she was gone. And it was his fault. Never would he see her green eyes dancing at him or sparked with anger, her Irish temper flaring up. Never would he kiss her again, never would hold her against him again and God, it hurt him worse than anything he had ever felt.

Ashley entered the room once more and Rhett stood abruptly. He thanked him for his kindness despite the household being in mourning, but could not speak otherwise. Would never reveal to the man what he had done. That was his own personal penance and he would have to carry it the rest of his life. Whether Ashley suspected how such news had affected Rhett, Rhett would never be able to tell. Ashley was nearly a ghost, walking dead amongst the living and nothing could be determined based solely on his expression any more. Ashley walked him to the door, exchanged a goodbye and closed Aunt Pitty's door behind him.

It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, but Rhett thought this would be a good a time as any to go get roaring drunk. He feared, however, that he would never get Scarlett's eyes out of his head. Never rid his cheek of her stinging slap. Always feel her lips against his; no matter how many women he would kiss. The one thing he knew for certain, and it was the truth, he would never be able to go a minute without hearing her sobs against the horse's side as he walked away from her and the wagon. That sound would haunt him for the rest of his life; no matter how much whiskey he drank, no matter where he traveled, no matter how hard he tried. No, never would he go a moment of any day without hearing Scarlett O'Hara cry as he had left her, left her to die.

Rhett Butler suddenly knew what he was sorry for.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Thank you for the kind reviews for part two! Hope you enjoy this chapter because the story really starts to pick up after this one. And after the next one, I'll be doing something I've never, ever done for any thing I've written before!**

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**Part Three:**

Nearly three years after Rhett Butler's fateful visit to Aunt Pitty's home, Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton placed her slipper upon the very steps he had walked down, but with caution and great heed in her step. She was dressed from head to toe in a pale yellow, such an uncharacteristic color for her in the past. For she had always been so adamant about wanting to wear bright, beautiful colors that stood out among the rest. And this particular dress did nothing to hide her paleness and ill looking thinness, but Scarlett had not worried about those things for quite some time. Her green eyes, usually sharp and full of life, were listless and dull. And she looked downward instead of looking directly into anything, least of all, the sun, as if it hurt her physically. No, Scarlett O'Hara was not the same girl she had been before the night Sherman stormed the city of Atlanta. She was changed. And not for the better.

For those who knew the new Scarlett, they were aware of two things. One, the lady sure didn't speak much. And two, when she did speak, you had better be listening because she wouldn't repeat her words. Repetition of words was left for her nephew, beautiful and vivacious Beau. The child had life where she did not; spoke when she would not. Laughed because she could not. For the past three years, she had lived in the North amidst Yankees, whom she did not find all too horrible despite their unfamiliar accents and the twangs of their voice. They had taken her in, fed her, clothed her, and accepted her silence and her lack of origin. Asked no questions and got no answers in return.

The one thing, however, that Scarlett was quick to correct, was the origin of Beau. No, he was not her son. Said so with as much swiftness and conviction as a battle cry, no one dared make her repeat it. They knew there was a sadness about this lady, deep within her bright green eyes, and when she was ready to share her sadness, she would. Eventually, she came around, even if it took her two and a half years to do it. What had happened the night a Yankee gentleman had found her curled in a tiny ball on a dirty road in the middle of nowhere? Well she told the story, but even then, there were no details. Bluntly, she told her tale with only the necessary details. And only because there was now a reason.

Everything she had ever known was dead or lost. Her little boy, try as they might, could not be found, despite her claims of him being alive. The most tragic part of her story however was when she got to the part about her family's plantation. Despite her hallucinations and lack of lucidness on that long journey to the North, somehow, someway, she had been lucid enough to see the spot where her home had once lain. Burnt to the ground and deserted, they had only happened to pass the place by a rare chance. But it was enough to kill all the life Scarlett had once had. Never realizing how much Tara meant to her until that very moment, Scarlett could not bring herself to care for a thing more after seeing such a disaster. Her family was dead and lost and if she could not be dead, well then she would be lost. Only at the urging of the very man who had rescued her did she reconsider her harsh and severe isolation from the rest of the world.

The man had discovered Gerald, Wade, and Ashley were all alive and mostly well. While this knowledge did not spark renewed life back into her soul, she knew it was finally time to return south, little Beau in tow. After all, despite raising the boy, he was not her child and he had a right to know his father. She did love him, which had come as a great shock upon her discovery of such a thing. Never thinking she would actually have to keep her word to Melanie about raising the child, she was surprised when the task turned out to be not much of a task. Always swearing to love and play with Wade when she had more time came to fruition, with her nephew instead of her son. While up north, she had all the time in the world to play and love. And with the fear that her own child was dead, she couldn't help but love Beau as best as she could. Sometimes she couldn't take his cries or foolishness and wished he were a grown boy, but surprisingly, these thoughts were few and far between.

After several letters and telegrams, she had wound up here. A place so unfamiliar despite the fact she had once lived there. With little blonde Beau gripping her one hand and his other in her skirts, she waited as Uncle Peter opened the door to the strange home. Mammy followed the two of them closely behind, her lip quivering with held back discipline for Beau. The woman had cried and cried when she spotted Scarlett for the first time, all too convinced that each and every one of the women she had been raised to care for were dead. With Scarlett alive, there was hope, and she refused to be separated from her lamb for more than a few days.

Scarlett was met with a rushing of skirts and tear streaked cheeks as Aunt Pitty embraced her openly. Pitty was blubbering something and although Scarlett had changed and was a different woman, she had to stop herself from slapping the old woman. It wasn't a miracle that Scarlett was alive, no, she thought bitterly; it would have been a miracle if she had died right there alongside Melanie. Although her son and father were alive, she herself would rather be dead. There was nothing here for her. And if Pitty couldn't see such a thing, well she was a bigger fool now than when Scarlett had last seen her.

Eventually Pitty released Scarlett, still sniffling with tears and led her and Beau into the parlor. There is where she met Ashley for the first time in years. He was dressed in dreadful clothes that were crumpled and stale looking. The clothes looked as worn as his pale face did, and this surprised Scarlett. In her memory, he had been so very vivid. But maybe it had all been an illusion for she suddenly could not recall a single moment of the past in which Ashley looked vibrant. And now, as she looked at him, she realized he was nothing. And quite possibly, he had never been anything. With his blank stare and voice that whispered so softly, she felt bile rising in her throat. She had hated Melanie for months! And for what? For Ashley? For this man standing before her? Why, Melanie was worth ten of him! She saw it all so clearly now. As if she had been behind a screen her entire life, a screen that blurred the picture and was suddenly removed. Well, she saw the truth now; she did not love Ashley any longer.

Instead she realized just how much of a friend Melly had been to her. Had more affection for Melanie than her own full-blooded sisters. Of course she had realized such a thing while up north, but had pushed the thought away, blaming the feelings only on Melanie's death. But now, oh, what a fool she had been! She didn't love Ashley. Maybe as a friend or as a brother, but not a man she could ever consider marrying. Despite thinking of Rhett Butler in her supposed last moments, and she shuddered at such a thought, she had dreamed of him these past years, of his touch and how he might react upon seeing her and his son alive. But then she would remember seeing him while she had been so near to death and could not help but fear him dead too. She would never leave Beau to India or Honey, so what was the use of going home? It was different when she discovered him alive, but even still, had returned more for her father and for her son. Had she grown up so much over the last few years that her love for him had died out?

And then there was the fact that she had broken her promise to him. Melanie was dead and Beau had nearly died and it was all her fault. She hadn't taken care of anyone but herself! Her and her selfish want to return home to Tara. Tara! And that was burnt to the ground now. So she feared Ashley for those three years. Loved him at the same time, but in that one instant of seeing him alive and so dead all at once, both feelings of love and fear washed away. He was not dead as she had originally thought, but perhaps he was not so very much alive either.

This thought was in her head and her heart hurt with such realizations, but the emotion did not show on her face or in her eyes. Gone were the days where her face could be read so very well, her eyes heavily guarded against any feeling. Except when it came down to her little nephew. And now perhaps, her son.

Ashley hugged her stiffly against him before allowing her and his son to sit down on the sofa. Beau clamped around her leg more severely, but she shook him off with irritation in her eyes. This is your father, Scarlett said. And she did not speak for the remainder of the afternoon or the entire evening.

Not even when Wade, who was led in after some time, bubbling with his renewed vocabulary, gripped his mother for the first time in years. Wade had expected the same loving mother who had sent him off down the dirt road with words of love and endearment and strength, but he did not get her back that way. If anything, she was colder than she had ever been. In his eyes she saw Melanie and for the moment, it was too much for her to bear. Despite having her sweet nature, Beau looked nothing like his mother. It was easier to look upon Beau's face and not think of Melly than to see her own son's face and have her mind be plagued by memories.

Tomorrow perhaps, Scarlett might feel differently. Differently about everything. For now however, she felt out of place; like an odd lampshade that didn't match the other décor of the room. Aunt Pitty blabbered on and on, but it made no difference. Scarlett would forevermore be home sick for a place that did not exist any longer, for a time that she could never go back to. Hearing Aunt Pitty speak and looking into Wade's eyes made her long even more terribly for those two things, the two things she could not have and yet, wanted so desperately. With these thoughts tearing at her mind, it was with a heavy heart in which she went about her way. Hardly ate a thing at dinner and only responded with nods and brief murmurs. Ashley spoke more than her while little Beau and Wade ran circles around her speech, both animated and excited. Scarlett however, just couldn't bring herself to join in no matter how she tried.

It scared Ashley to see her that way. She had been so very alive at one time, full of bubbling laughter and smiles that brought out her charming dimple time and time again. He had expected her to be that same woman, even after all the time they had spent away from one another. But she looked just as dead as he felt and it depressed him deeply. He could tell she loved his son and although she did not speak much, he knew she blamed herself for Melanie's death. India and Honey had expected Ashley to be furious that Scarlett had kept his son away from him for so long, and maybe it was odd that he did not feel that way, but he simply could not. Scarlett was alive. His son was alive. Certainly there were worse things in this world than that.

He wanted to touch her again. The brief hug hadn't been enough to truly tell him a thing about her, really. But try as he might, they did not find themselves alone until after Pitty had retired to bed. It was a brief meeting outside of Wade and Beau's door. She had just read them a story, the most she had spoken all day long, and Ashley had listened. After they had kissed the boys goodnight and tucked them in (a thing he would have never pictured Scarlett doing!), he lightly touched her arm. She looked at him before wincing and moving her arm away. Scarlett O'Hara wincing? Why, that was so unlike her, he had to hide his surprise. Instead of revealing his shock, he blurted out a thank you. He was thankful for her raising little Beau so well. Thankful she and him had returned, for Melly had written him before… before, well, before everything had gone wrong and voiced her wishes that Scarlett might raise their baby if anything happened to either of them. She did love you so, he said. But that was all, for a queer look came across Scarlett's eyes and he did not wish to make her cry. Instead he bade her goodnight and entered his own bedroom.

Scarlett herself entered her room after Ashley had shut his door. Still surprised at how little she felt towards him, even when he touched her, she slowly readied herself for bed. Mammy had offered to help, but Scarlett, so used to undressing herself now, dismissed her with a hasty wave of her hand. Now she wished Mammy were here. She might help take Scarlett's mind off of what Ashley had said.

Melly had said those things about her? Well, look where it had gotten her! Dead in the middle of the road in an old wagon. All because of her. This thought had plagued her ever since fully waking up in the north a new woman and it certainly would not stop after Ashley's talk. Oh! She wanted Melly and she didn't want him! How strange a feeling!

It was some time after her talk with Ashley that Scarlett crept back down the stairs. She could not sleep, no matter how she tried, too plagued with memories and thoughts. After being awake for what seemed like an eternity, she wrapped something around her and descended, unsure of where it was she was going. She finally decided to push open the front door and sit on Aunt Pitty's porch. Knew it was wrong to sit out there in her nightclothes, but did not care. The warm breeze was welcomed against her chilled skin and she sat down in an idle chair, rocking steadily to comfort herself.

A sudden noise caught her attention and she moved to go back inside when she saw someone coming up the walk. It frightened her, nearly causing her to scream out in the dark night, calling to Ashley and waking the household and neighbors. Something stopped her, however. Perhaps it was the glint in the man's eye or the way he walked up the steps of Aunt Pitty's porch.

The man was Rhett Butler. And he was visibly drunk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Wow, thank you so much for all your kind words for part three! They really mean a lot to me. This part was headed in several different directions and it wasn't until I had a stroke of genius and changed things around completely. Just so you know, this was supposed to end completely differently. I can't decide who influenced me more, Scarlett or Rhett. So thank you and here is part four!**

* * *

"So the rumors are true."

His voice was like Sherman's fire. It was as if she hadn't heard anyone speak, even herself, since after Rhett had left them stranded that night so long ago. Everyone else's words had always seemed so unimportant. Even little Beau had never truly broken through her fog, no matter the love and affection she felt for the little boy. Scarlett was curious as to why this was, but paid hardly any mind, choosing to focus on Rhett's swaying drunkenness instead.

He spoke in slurs as he advanced towards her. She didn't move away from the front door, but planted her bare feet instead, forcing herself to wait and see what this scoundrel had to say to her. Oh, for she did think him a scoundrel and the most hateful man in existence. As much as she blamed herself for Melly's death, she blamed this man ten times more. For it is always easier to place blame on other people rather than our own selves.

He looked entirely changed from the last time she had seen him. His middle was thicker, his face a little bloated, his eyes red and bloodshot. He had let his hair grow so that it looked unkempt, while he hadn't bothered at all with his facial hair. It all made him look like a convict, all the more swarthy and crazed.

Scarlett refused to respond to his words. They were so quiet that they were frightening to her. But she did look at him straight on. Something she hadn't done to anyone, save for Beau and Wade, in the past several years. It was easier with Rhett for a reason unknown to her, something she couldn't put her finger on. And his words, so slurred and brief they were, almost brought back the fire in her eyes, the fire that had gone out of them and seemed to be lost forever. And yet, still she would not respond. No matter the feelings he evoked in her. She had not spoken to anyone more than necessary in the past three years and he certainly did not deserve her words.

He finally reached her, but could barely stand straight at all, so heavily affected by his drunkenness. Placing a hand on the house and next to Scarlett's face, he attempted to steady himself. He was too close for any sort of decency, and she opened her mouth to tell him so, poised to eagerly snap in his face, but stopped suddenly, reminding herself that she would not speak to this mongrel. Despite his intoxicated state, he noticed her halted words and could not help but smirk, laughing lightly in her face.

"Speechless, my dear? My face looked a trifle similar when I heard my dearest was alive and well."

No, no, no! She would not take his bait. And how sarcastic and cutting his bait was! Her eyes would not reveal her true feelings and she would remain as dead as she had been the past three years. She would! No matter the strength it took! She looked down and away from his piercing gaze. Turned to move away but he pulled her back. His hands burned her as much as his gaze and words had, but she could not move and simply stopped trying.

"Look at me, Scarlett." Clumsily he tucked his other hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "God, to see those eyes right here and to know they are not a part of my imagination. Do you know how often – no, no you wouldn't know. You've been a bit too busy faking your own death, haven't you? Did it feel good to raise Melanie's child all by yourself? Or shall we call the child Ashley's? As you surely did."

She slapped his cheek then. A loud crack that felt like fire underneath her palm, her pride the only thing keeping her from rubbing it tenderly. Rhett hardly reacted at all, didn't even move back an inch. Only moved his hand from under her chin and rubbed the spot, but in such a queer matter. He breathed out an 'ah' and smirked slightly. Scarlett might be unwilling to speak with words, but surely Rhett could understand the hateful words bubbling behind the sting of a slap. Blinking back her tears, she moved against his grip again, anger pinching her brow together and screwing her mouth shut. Scarlett would not stand such words from him. Especially from him.

"Wait," and this was said softer and with much more sadness. Why, his voice was actually tender. "By God, I didn't come here to hurt you. It's been three years, Scarlett. Three long years since – and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my love, for leaving you and Melly on that road that night. I knew all the danger and yet I did it anyway and it wasn't – well, just look at what happened."

Scarlett looked down once more, fighting to keep the tears at bay. She had held them back for so long, she could do it once more. But Rhett was forcing her chin up once again and his hands were on her arm and for God's sake she was only in her nightclothes and a wrapper, but still, the tears came and she could not stop them. "Scarlett, speak to me. Let me hear your voice."

And so suddenly, without warning, she remembered seeing him. Maybe it was this sudden softness that had come so quickly after his meanness. Maybe it was his face so close to hers. Maybe it was the fire she felt with his hands on her. She didn't quite know, but she remembered. All those years ago, when she had leaned against that unknown tree in the middle of nowhere and had seen what she described as heaven, she had seen him. He had been the one to lead her out of that heaven, the man she followed, leaving everyone she had ever known behind. Features softening at such a realization, more tears streaked down her face. With her lip shuddering and her voice croaking, she finally spoke.

"I can't," she whispered brokenly. "I can't speak anymore because that would make me feel. And I don't want to feel anymore, Rhett. Not when everything I've ever known and loved has died. I can't be that person you once knew and I can't – I can't – I just can't!" She sobbed openly, her eyes wide with pain he had brought to the surface. Feelings she had buried so deep inside for so long.

He sighed, but didn't back away. It didn't occur to Scarlett that they were standing on Aunt Pitty's porch, surrounded by sleeping neighbors. Nothing but Rhett's sobering face were seen, nothing but his hands felt, nothing but his voice heard. She hadn't felt so alive in so very long and it was thrilling and terrifying all at once. But as suddenly as the remembering had come, it was ripped away. She stopped sobbing and looked at him without bothering to wipe away the tears and the tracks they made.

"You left us, Rhett. You left us and – and… Do you even understand?" Her voice broke and she could only whisper her last words, "I saw Melly dead, Rhett! And Tara, and Mother… they're gone. Oh!" And then suddenly she was stronger. Her hatred fueled her and her eyes crackled once more. It was if she herself suddenly remembered that very desolate feeling of being alone and scared with hardly life left in her body. Of seeing her dear friend dead, of not being able to find Wade, of clutching Beau in her arms and fearing him dead as well, living in silence, feeling so dead inside. And it was his fault. She scrubbed at her cheeks furiously and almost forgot to keep her voice at a low volume when she spoke next. "You – you! Get your hands off of me, you skunk!"

He shrank back from her, recoiling as if he had been struck once more, his eyes flickering to a darker shade at her words. He had seen fury in her eyes. Oh, on occasion he had purposely put it there for his own amusement! But he had never seen her eyes looking like that. Or at least, never looking at him in such a way. The past years had hardened her and though it was more difficult to see through the haze of alcohol, he could still see it. Scarlett, so thin and pale, with such a defeated heartbreak weighing upon her shoulders, truly hated him. A million and one retorts danced upon his tongue in a fury, but he dared not speak them. There were words however, that also danced upon his tongue and slid to his lips almost unconsciously. He would blame the alcohol for this later, would blame anything and everything all at once. But it didn't stop him.

"I love you."

And at the same time, neither without abandon nor with delay, Scarlett's own words rushed from her mouth.

"I hate you."

Each truth spoken aloud was much too much for either of the listeners. Scarlett couldn't seem to get enough air, gulping and blinking her eyes rapidly. Loved her? Why, she had expected as much during the war, but she had never heard him speak so truthfully and without any control. And for his confession to come at such a time? A time when Scarlett could hardly feel a thing? Oh, and yet at the same time, a cruelty was rising. She had him now. She could hurt him more than he had hurt her. If she wanted, she could leave him heartbroken and forever ruined. But it was so strange. As if all her hatred for him suddenly fell away. Yes, she had hated him while up North and at the same time, sometimes she thought it was the only thing that kept her alive.

Rhett shrank even further back from her words. She had never seen him looking so defeated. It was then that she realized how dead he was and how much he had invested in her words. Why, he was almost like Ashley! Oh, no. He was almost like her! What had happened to all of them? Oh, what had happened to the entire world after that dreadful war? And why had it taken her so long to realize it?

Her mind and heart were playing tug of war with another. Her mind screaming at her to remember, remember! On the side of the road! Just how much pain you suffered. But her heart remembered the heaven he had been a part of. It asked her to remember seeing him walk away and not being able to follow and just how much it had hurt her. No! No! She would not fall into his trap once more. She knew; she knew he did not love her. Not after all that had happened. Her mind was satisfied with it's sudden victory and Scarlett let it lead her into the next attack.

"Love me? Be serious, Rhett! You abandoned me and my kin on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere! Melly died and it was your entire fault. And I can never forgive you for such a thing. You're a cad who doesn't care for anyone but himself. And it'll never change, you drunken fool! You're heartless. And I never want to see you again." She spit out these words as if they were poison, lying there on her tongue. Forgot about anything but her hatred for him. The hatred that had been bubbling up inside of her for years and now, she could finally say them all. It would not hurt her reputation to upbraid this man, for she did not care any longer. She did not care about anything in the world, especially not Rhett Butler.

"You don't love me," she repeated. "You've never loved anything in this world." His face and eyes suddenly clouded, as if a dark storm was brewing underneath his expression, but she was not afraid. There was nothing left in the world that scared Scarlett O'Hara any more. "Get off this porch. You are not welcome here."

Instead, he moved towards her, eyes suddenly lit with something indiscernible. It seemed as if all the alcohol had miraculously evaporated from his system and he was in complete control once more. Back to fight their battle again, no matter how much it took from him. "You can try, my dear Mrs. Hamilton, but you will never be able to get rid of me. Not in a lousy three years and certainly not now when you are finally back. You think you can just stand there and deny what it is I know you feel for me? I wasn't the only one involved in that incident beside the side of the road back on that night, Scarlett. You wanted me. You wanted me more than you have ever wanted any other man, even your darling little Ashley."

"Oh, just shut your mouth! What happened on that road was nothing and you would be so much unlike a gentleman to mention it again! If you had any sense at all – "

"You know that I am no gentleman. And you are certainly no lady. Not even after all these years of silence and repentance for the sin you can hardly live with. You aren't the only one, Scarlett; you aren't the only one who has had to live with their guilt."

"Am I to suspect that you have also lived with the heavy burden of guilt over these years, Rhett Butler? Well you can save your words because I know you haven't missed me. Why, you were probably happy I was dead so I wouldn't tell all of Atlanta what you did that very night and how much you contributed to Melly's death. We all know just how much more your reputation can take."

His eyes grew even darker and suddenly he was closer than ever, arms wrapped around her shoulders. "You heartless, uncaring thing! You accuse me of being unfeeling – you accuse me of not caring. You're the cruel one, my pet, and God have I missed it. I love you, God knows why, and I won't leave this porch until you believe it."

She opened her mouth to protest, but his was on hers before she knew what was happening. Refusing at first, his gruff hair unkind against her smooth skin, she pushed against him. But he persisted and suddenly she was aflame against him. No, she could not deny the connection she felt with this man; no matter how hard she tried to reject it. He kissed her unlike any other and it warmed every bit of her body, from the very tips of her toes to the top of her head. His hands caressed her shoulders and arms and neck, so that it felt like his hands were everywhere all at once. Her wrapper was too thin and no match for his moistened lips. Breathless and flustered, she was not the one to stop the kiss and was almost disappointed when he pulled away. There was no crying Wade to stop them now, no city burning in the near distance, but even in Rhett's state, he knew he could not continue. Instead, he pulled back but did not remove his hands. Tilted her face upwards and rested his cheek against hers, his mouth so near her lobe.

"Deny it," he whispered, softly speaking against her ear. "Deny what you feel for me and you'll never have to see me again." He sucked her lobe, dragging it softly against his teeth before pulling completely back and looking into her eyes.

Rhett had never seen her looking like this. Her cheeks were crimson and flushed, but not nearly as red as her mouth. She was breathing hard, her hands hidden fists in her wrapper, body coiled like a spring. But what made him so close to not stopping were her eyes. They were greener than he had ever seen them, blazing and burning with color. They were hazy and languid and unfocused. She looked feverish and sick, but he knew that certainly wasn't the case and almost smirked, but hid this from her, knowing it might set her off.

"I don't." She gasped out after some time. Oh, and now her heart was singing with it's victory!

"You don't what?" And he couldn't help but smirk openly then, for she had unconsciously pulled him closer. "Just say it, Scarlett. Just say it and I'll leave you forever. If that's what you want."

"I don't know what I want. I hate you, but I want you. And oh, don't look at me like that," for he had raised his eyebrows, "I'm not afraid to say it. You forget that I'm not afraid of anything anymore, lest of which my words. Yes, I want you. You make me feel more alive than any man I've ever known – " He moved down to kiss her again at these words, but she stopped him forcefully. "But Rhett, this… us. Why, I suspect you'd want me for your mistress and I will never do such a thing... no matter how much you kiss me."

"Didn't you hear me, Scarlett? I love you. Three years can seem like an eternity when the person you love is presumed dead. That night I asked you to be my mistress was at a different time. You weren't dead then, were you? It's different now. I'm different now."

"It doesn't change it! You think it's just so easy to say sorry and kiss me and make me _feel_ and all is forgiven! It doesn't work that way."

"Then all you have to do is say those words. That's all it'll take, my dear." But by the way his eyes were suddenly so open and sincere, she knew she couldn't say those words or at least, she couldn't say those words and actually mean them. She had never seen him looking so open, not once in all the years she had known him. And it hurt.

"I suspect… I…" she bit her lip for she knew no words could hide her feelings any longer. She was like an open book to him and there was no use closing up now. Her crackling eyes were suddenly dead, for she was forced to look at her true fate. Gathering her breath, she continued quickly, trying to get out all the words at once. "Ashley will most likely propose to me in the next few weeks. You see… it isn't proper living in this house together even if Aunt Pitty is here. And I suppose it's the right thing since, well, I've basically raised Beau and he's like a son to me and then there's Wade and… I'd have to say yes. So it doesn't matter. What your kisses make me feel or what I can't say to you! It doesn't matter!"

"Ah," and he sucked in a breath, his eyes closing suddenly, "So it is Ashley Wilkes then. You still love him."

"But I don't!" And hot tears spilled along her cheeks once more. It was all too much to feel all these feelings in a matter of moments and she felt she could hardly stand under all this sudden new pressure. "I don't love him any more, Rhett. I've never loved him really. But this is what must be done. For Beau and for Wade. And there's nothing we can do!"

"What about you? Isn't your happiness worth something? Darling, there's always a way to fix things. We can fix this." And he wiped her tears with his thumb tenderly. Bent down to kiss her softly. But she pushed him away, denied his comfort.

"You just can't see what you've done, can you? If none of this had happened, if you hadn't left me on that road, everything could be different. Now I'll be stuck until the last of my days! Stuck with someone I don't love, feeling dead. And that's what you'll have until the last of your days as well, Rhett. The burden of knowing things could have been different but aren't and will never be; the burden of knowing what you've done.

"Oh, I won't tell all of Atlanta what you did that night on the side of the road. Leaving a sick woman, children, a useless slave, and me all alone. No. I feel as if this will be enough punishment for the both of us."

She turned then, wrestled herself out of his grasp and opened Pitty's screen. He clutched at her hand and she stopped for a moment reveling in what his touch did to her, tried to remember the feeling so she could keep it until her very last moments, but eventually she tugged her palm out of his grasp. "Scarlett," he said once, but then was silent. She left Rhett Butler standing alone on that porch. Alone. Scarlett and Rhett, both so very alone until the last of their days. And there wasn't a thing either of them could do about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

Ashley wearily sighed as he closed the door to Aunt Pitty's home. He had just returned from escorting Scarlett to the train station. She was headed back to Clayton County for what she assumed would be the last time. However, if he had his way, it would not be her last visit home. He wasn't sorry that he had lied to her about the real reason she was returning, but it certainly did not make it any easier on him. It had been all too easy for him to feel right about it. Once upon some time, Scarlett had always been able to tell when if he was only slightly fibbing. And now, with this blatant, undetected lie, he felt guilty. It was for her own good, he knew, but it made him long even more so for days gone by.

He didn't love Scarlett O'Hara. He knew this and he was also aware of Scarlett's knowledge on this subject. Still, they never talked about such a thing. Lived in the same house, ate at the same table, were essentially mother and father to the same children, and were virtual strangers. He didn't know this lifeless woman and she didn't even try to know him, not like she used to.

Ashley, Aunt Pitty, and Mammy all feared for her health. Scarlett ate like a bird and slept only when her body forced her to. Didn't cry, but looking at her stony stares and lifeless eyes almost made all three of them wish she would weep. They prayed to hear her laugh, pleaded to see her smile, but nothing they did ever worked. Aunt Pitty likened her mood back to the days just after dear Charlie had died, but Melanie had been there then. Melanie had comforted her like no other could. There was no Melanie now. And each time Aunt Pitty remembered this; she would weep, offering up no help at all.

It had been this way for one full year. Whenever Ashley spoke to her, it was as if she couldn't really see him or hear his voice. There was a silence in her eyes and the way she did things now. Sometimes she would enter a room and he wouldn't be able to tell she had entered. Sometimes she would speak and he wouldn't be able to hear her, her words so soft amidst the noise. He was aware that she was fading ever so slowly into nothing, but no matter how long he pondered the subject, there was never any clear solution. He just didn't know what to do. But six months ago, the solution had been clear, no matter how he struggled against it. He had plotted with Mammy whenever Scarlett managed to be asleep; hushed whispers and closed doors. He knew that if this didn't work, then Scarlett would be lost forever.

Scarlett had refused to return home for almost three months, but with gentle coaxing and finally with what was half an order from Mammy, Ashley and Mammy had convinced her to make such a trip. It had been the only thing she had refused for more than a week ever since returning. Mammy and Ashley almost hoped this order would bring her fight back, but she eventually gave in.

He would not know the outcome for some time, and this did not make it any easier on him. Perhaps getting the real Scarlett back would bring back some of the old days. Perhaps it might ease the pain of losing Melanie. Perhaps it would do nothing for him at all except bring him the knowledge that Scarlett was happy. After all she had done for Melanie and Beau, it was the least he could do. He just hoped it worked.

* * *

Scarlett woke with a start as her train came to an abrupt halt. Blinking rapidly, she forgot just for a moment who she was and what she was doing on a train. But, as it always did upon waking, her memory came rushing back. She didn't want to know. Would rather have been anyone else on that train headed to Jonesboro. In fact, Scarlett would rather have been anywhere else but on that train headed for what once had been home. But there was no going back now, not when she had come this far without crying aloud and running all the way back to Atlanta. Or not back at all. If it hadn't been for Beau and Wade, she might run for Texas or some other wildly unknown place she had never been and never come back. But she knew that wouldn't be of help either. For she knew no place could cure whatever had taken hold of her and ailed her. It was such an odd feeling, not wanting to be any place at all.

As it was, there had been no excitement whatsoever in the past year and she felt all the more dead than ever before. The world was a giant blur, with only a handful of moments piercing through the giant fog that seemed to surround her. Nothing mattered to her, except for a few small things here and there, all of which had to do with Beau and Wade. Her eyes almost sparkled when she was with the two boys, for she could almost forget everything else. It was only a matter of time before everything came rushing back however, and it took a little more out of her each time this realization swept through her.

There was one funny thing about living in a fog though. You might not feel or speak or even realize exactly what took place around you, but there are still things that need to be done. Oh, you might not care about such things, but people expect you to, no matter how you feel. You might also find yourself being persuaded, being persuaded by people who have your best interests in mind of course, but being persuaded all the same. Persuasion was the only reason she was on that train, wishing herself anywhere else on the earth. The fog remained and she did not care one way or the other, but she knew she did not want to be here.

The land that had been Tara once upon a time was up for resale and as Scarlett was the only living relative coherent and alive enough to sign upon dotted line after dotted line, she was needed back in the old county. She would stay at the Tarleton's newly rebuilt house for one night, no chaperone needed for such a short visit, and then take Gerald with her in the morning back to Aunt Pitty's. There was nothing more for Gerald to do out in the county and his rightful place was with his last remaining daughter, no matter how little room they had left in the small house. Scarlett had only seen him a handful of times since returning from the North, but wasn't sorry about this, for Gerald could hardly remember who she was any longer and she was too numb to feel sorry about anything anymore.

Scarlett stood and smoothed out her wrinkled clothing, fighting the urge to yawn widely and vigorously rub her eyes. Instead, she slowly walked down the train aisle and exited. Ignoring all the sounds of life and excitement that surrounded her, starting with the bellowing of the train's whistle and the cloud of steam that seemed to puff continuously into the air, she focused her attention on finding the person who was supposed to give her a ride to the Tarleton's. Squinting into the hot sun, she surveyed the station. There wasn't a large amount of people boarding and exiting the train, but for some reason she felt so very lost.

Suddenly, as if appearing from nowhere, was a man. She noticed his very expensive looking suit first and his face last. But even before he had come within hearing's distance to her, she stomped her foot and turned to walk in the other direction, not caring for the luggage she left behind. She had half the mind to get back on the train and leave him standing there, but this wasn't an option, for her train was already pulling out of the station, leaving the two of them and a few other wandering travelers behind.

"Scarlett," And there was his voice. God, didn't he know what that did to her? A mixture of fury and sadness welled up inside of her and before she could help it, she was whirling around, eyes clouded with her emotions. He came closer, but she backed away, feeling only content with distance in this very moment. She was almost panting, her stays seeming to pinch her ribs with each breath. However, despite her feelings threatening to burst, she couldn't help but pause and take a moment to study him.

He looked completely changed from their last meeting. There was vitality in his face now; a face that was not clouded with alcohol this time around, but with a renewed youth. He was thinner, the fine suit was tailored to fit his body perfectly and so it did. His hair was cleanly cut and out of his eyes, his moustache clipped against the slight curve of his lips, for he was smiling. His eyes, at one time seeming so dark and bottomless were lighter and she swore she could see some hope within them. Scarlett realized that as she was studying him, he was doing the same to her. She felt almost embarrassed at her disheveled appearance. She knew her dress was straggly looking and her hair was a mess. The most embarrassing features of all, however, were her dead eyes and thin face. Once so vivacious and full of life, her eyes now seemed to lack their greenness, almost looking brown at first glance. And her face, so thin and tired looking, lacked the color it had once held by mere nature. This was the first time she was aware of her looks in years and she resented him for making her away of it. Leave it to Rhett to make her feel not quite up to par.

She couldn't help but stare at him, for it had been so very long since their last meeting. It almost made her anger disappear, just for the joy of seeing him once again and looking so handsome. But the fact that Mammy and Ashley had tricked her into this meeting made her shiver with her held back anger. The only thing that kept her from unleashing her fury was the presence of the very few strangers mingling about. She didn't want her business being spread about the entire county, and so she held her tongue, no matter how hard it seemed, eyes flashing instead.

He held up a gloved hand, almost like he was waving a white flag of surrender in the air and then held it out to her, wordlessly begging for her to take it into her own ungloved one. "I just want to talk to you."

With eyes still tightened with anger and with quivering crimson lips, she studied him for a moment more. Looking into his eyes, she decided she saw something she liked and outstretched her hand and placed it into his warm one. He motioned for an unknown man to take her bags while he himself helped her into his carriage. It was the first carriage she had seen before the war, with the finest horses known to man. This alone made her forget her fear of traveling this road once more, a road so similar and so very near to the one upon which she had nearly died, the road that Rhett had abandoned her on. It was the safest she had felt in years, surrounded by what surely cost a ton of money. She held back the urge to caress the seats; so very hungry she was for nice things.

The carriage leapt forward as the driver cracked the whip and suddenly they were in motion, the outside world steadily moving passed her window. She turned to Rhett, anger still plucking the corner of her lips, making her childishly pout. "You're not going to abandon me on this road too, are you?" It was a cutting remark, she knew; a sort of sarcastic blow that was entirely mean and had no hint of humor in it.

He was quick with a response. "No. Not this time around, anyway. But keep it up, Mrs. Hamilton, and I'm sure many things can be arranged."

Fury ignited in her belly once more, her eyes wide with the nerve of his response. "Why, you low down, no good – I… I'd rather you left me here! Any place is better than in a carriage with a cad like you!"

He laughed genuinely. "I've missed your temper." And smirked once more as her eyebrows drew together sharply. "Now now, Scarlett, there's no need to be angry with me. I am only kidding you. I wouldn't dream of leaving you on this road – "

She interrupted him without thinking the words over, blurting out cutting words once more. "No, you only save such treatment for when I'm with a dying woman and three other helpless souls, don't you?"

He raised a hand. That white flag blowing in the air once more. "I've already apologized for such behavior and it isn't what we're here to talk about. Although I see a year hasn't helped you overcome such anger as I was hoping it might." She rolled her eyes but let him continue on. "I want to talk to you about something. Something far more important than what has happened in the past. Do you think we can be nice for just this short while? It's about our future."

"We've already discussed this, Rhett, and while I can certainly be nice, I'm not going to pretend there is a future for us. And not because I can't forgive you."

"I've stayed away from you for an entire year, watching you from afar. Half the time, you look just about dead. Why is it, my dear, that your eyes look entirely alive only when I'm around? Have you ever wondered? I have."

She puffed out a breath, looking very much like a bird with ruffled feathers. "How very conceited of you, Rhett Butler. It's simply untrue."

"You're fading away, Scarlett. You're thinner than you've ever been, and I know, for Mammy has spoken to me about this matter. You don't laugh, you don't smile, you don't cry! It's as if you're dead. You wouldn't notice if Melanie Hamilton herself walked through your front door." He paused for a moment and took her hand. "Darling, everyone is worried about you."

She relaxed for a moment at the touch of his hand on hers, her eyes going soft for a moment. Quickly though, her eyes became masked once more and she ripped her hand from his grasp. "Fiddle dee dee, Rhett! I had no idea I was the talk of the town!"

"Don't play coy with me. Give up the act, Scarlett. Scream and cry if you must, but don't do this to yourself."

"You want me to scream? You want me to cry? Why should I waste my tears on something that can't be fixed? Screaming won't bring Melanie back! Screaming and crying won't help me get you!"

His expression changed entirely when she said this. He leaned forward from his seat and studied her face intensely before saying, "and is that what you want? Darling, you can have me. You can have me and still keep your promise to Melanie."

"He's just a boy, Rhett." And she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, a faraway look entering her eyes. "A boy who's lost his mother and who hardly has a father left. Oh, his aunts are just awful! I couldn't possibly leave him and go off with you. As if it's all so easy!"

"I can make it easy, Scarlett. I'll build you a house so close to Aunt Pitty's home so that you'll be able to put Beau to bed every single night if you'd like. I'd do that for you, you know." He forced her hand into his once more and looked into her eyes. "I want you to marry me, Scarlett. For I do love you and I would do anything to make you happy. I refuse to lose you again."

"I don't love you, Rhett," she said bluntly. "I want you, but I don't love you."

"I am aware of that. I'd like to try and change your mind if you'll let me."

She thought about it for a moment. Rhett Butler was rich, yes, but that wasn't the reason why she was considering accepting his proposal now. He would take care of her, she knew, and he had always treated Wade like a son. But oh, to think of him as hers and only hers was the thing that thrilled her the most, although she wasn't exactly sure why. To kiss him and forget about her hardships was so enticing. She didn't know much about love, but perhaps this was worth a try. No matter how he had abandoned them so long ago. He did seem truly sorry. And he did seem to understand the kind of responsibilities she had upon her back. Perhaps.

"Okay." There, she had said it and she couldn't take it back now.

"Just okay, my dear? Surely you can think of a better answer than that."

"Don't joke with me now, Rhett. You got the answer you were looking for, so leave me be. I do hope you have a ring."

He chuckled lightheartedly, his heart so clear in his usually dark eyes. "No, not yet. But I might have something better." He stopped a moment, leaned forward, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"You must be kidding me, Rhett. Just a kiss?"

He smiled against her lips and kissed her again. It was a deeper kiss than the last and it made her feel breathless in an instant, but she calmed the storm in her head and pulled away with another pout, this one a little less serious than the one she had entered the carriage with.

He ignored her pout, choosing to speak instead. "Scarlett, have you noticed that we stopped moving quite some time ago?" She looked around, just noticing now that the carriage was at a standstill. He couldn't contain his genuine smile and pointed to the window. "Look outside."

"Why, what –?" Suddenly the carriage door swung wide and she could easily see where they were. "Why, that… that looks like… Tara!" And so it was.

Without waiting for any kind of assistance, Scarlett launched from the carriage, skirts trailing behind her in the brick red dirt. But she did not care. Tara and it's whitewashed brick exterior was standing where it had once lain and nothing mattered to her any longer. She ran across the grass of the front lawn, immaculate and so much like it had been in the old days. The house was standing, tall and proud as it once had, looking only slightly different in structure. It wasn't so haphazard now, with sections looking thrown on, but looked perfectly planned out, each piece added on with a clear plan.

Tears of happiness were flooding Scarlett's cheeks when she reached the porch, breathless and utterly overjoyed. The wood creaked beneath her slippers as she flung the front door open, peering inside, her eyes going about wildly. And they could find no fault with this home. It was as if Tara had never been burnt down. As if Ellen might climb down those stairs in an instant and Scarlett could hug her knees close and lay her head down, crying out all her sorrows. Scarlett knew this would not, could not happen, so she settled with exploring the house instead. And she was not disappointed with what she found.

When she was done, her heart content and singing, she found Rhett on the side porch, sitting on a porch swing. He was leaning back and surveying the untouched land, smoking a cigar. She sat down next to him, still breathless and shaking. Her eyes, so green and full with tears, searched his with her unspoken questions. She wasn't so sure she'd be able to speak; so filled to the brim she was with emotion. Her hair mussed, her cheeks flushed. To anyone else, she might look like a mess. To Rhett, she had never looked so beautiful.

There was something spectacular about restoring happiness in the person you loved. To see their eyes wide and alive instead of dead. To see that full smile and know he had put it there? Why, he knew there was nothing better. Almost no greater feeling than this.

"You can't understand what it does to my heart to see you looking so happy, Scarlett." He said this while he wiped away her tears and she smiled at him, adding her dimple for good measure, like one might add a cherry on top of a sundae.

"But how did this happen? Tara was burnt down all those ye—"

"Shh," he interrupted her. "When your father couldn't pay the taxes almost a year ago, your old overseer was sniffing around, planning on claiming the land and rebuilding. Although your father isn't the most lucid any longer, I assure you, there was nothing that upset him more. Dear old Mammy got wind of all of this and came to me. Seems like we weren't the only two listening to that conversation almost more than a year ago out on Aunt Pitty's porch.

"When she came to me, she was in quite the tizzy. Saying how I owed you this and owed Melanie this. Said it was all up to me to fix her 'lamb', as I had been the one to break her. And that she wouldn't stand by and watch it happen again, although I'm not exactly sure what she meant by that.

"So I bought this land. Built this house with the aid of your father. I'll tell you, I've never seen him happier than the day I came to him asking for his help. And by the expression on your face, it looks like we did a good job." He smiled, puffed out some smoke and wrapped an arm around her.

"Why, I never thought that I would ever see this house again on this land. I thought it was lost forever. I just don't know how I'll ever thank you, Rhett."

"You don't have to thank me, darling. I just ask for your complete forgiveness and of course, for you to marry me. But even if you had said no, this would all still be yours."

"What do you mean?"

"Tara doesn't belong to me. Well… it belongs to me in the sense that I've rebuilt it, but I don't have the passion for it like you or your father. There's something in you Irish that gets you all a flutter over land. I'll never understand it, but if you smile at me like that every day, I certainly couldn't care less.

"It's yours, Scarlett. When we are married, you can spend as much money as you'd like rebuilding the place, but like I said, if you had said no, it'd still be the same." She tilted her head and maneuvered it just so it laid across his shoulder, her eyes crackling with held back emotion.

"All mine, huh?" she said dreamily against his neck. "Why, Rhett Butler, I do think I could fall in love with you."

"Hmm," he said lazily, content with her so very close to him after so long. "I could get used to such a thing, you know."

"Yes, but of course I'll need a ring. A great big one so that every one will be mighty jealous at the husband I've caught!"

"You've caught me, have you? I don't know if I like that part."

"You'll learn to, I'm sure."

"Perhaps," he said and swung the swing idly before tilting his head closer to her lips, cigar discarded. "There's one thing I'm sure I enjoy already though, one I won't have to learn to like." And he moved so that their lips met. Sat on the porch of Tara, with the birds chirping off in the surrounding trees, and kissed her. Kissed her sweetly. Kissed her softly. Kissed her hard. Kissed her until his moustache tickled her and she laughed against his lips. Whispered his love for her until she whispered it back

Kissed. Laughed. Lived. Loved.

…. until the very last of both their days.

* * *

_Note: So this is it, the final part. Pretty impressive for a story that was only supposed to be a chapter long. It was hard to say goodbye and I feel like the ending isn't perfect, but that's the way it'll have to be. I was so set on making this an unhappy piece, and in the first draft, Scarlett was dead as a doornail, Beau along with her. But, she wouldn't let me take her down without a fight. I teetered on killing Ashley and Beau for a while, but couldn't do it. And then I decided to leave it with Scarlett marrying Ashley for the sake of Beau, but couldn't bring myself to do that either. Just goes to show how much the characters actually have to do with your plot, and I certainly was no match for Scarlett's will._

_Thank you for every single review. You don't understand how much all of them have helped me write this story, especially since it was supposed to be so short in the very beginning. So I appreciate them and have enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts. It was my first Gone with the Wind fic, so to say I was nervous is a bit of an understatement. I hope you enjoyed the way things turned out!_


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